


Want

by moz17



Category: Muse
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moz17/pseuds/moz17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simple: Matt wants Dom; and Matt gets what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Matt wanted what he couldn't have. 

It had always been like this. 

Sometimes it was innocent. Like when he was a small child and his mum had told him he couldn't eat the cake that was in the kitchen. Well, that made no sense to Matt. The cake looked even more delicious after what his mum had said. It was worth getting a telling-off and a smack just to taste it. 

But sometimes it was less innocent. Like when he began to experiment with drugs- pot, mushrooms. He had grown up listening to teachers, well-meaning adults and endless newspapers telling him he chouldn't do drugs. Well, clearly this was a similiar case to the cake: drugs were fucking amazing.

Then there were the times it was dangerous to want what he couldn't have. Like when he was eleven and he had been playing in the back garden with a friend of his from school. They had been playing hide and seek, then chasing. They were exhausted, giggling, panting. He and his friend threw themselves in the grass, lying on their backs, full of the giddiness of a Sunday afternoon. His friend had reached over and began touching his crotch. Matt was surprised but quickly began to like the funny sensation it left in the bottom of his tummy. So, he began to do the same to his friend. It only seemed fair. He could still picture the look on his mum's face as she ran towards the two of them. 

Smack. 

And today, as ever, Matt wanted what he couldn't have. In Dominic Howard's smile he could see the promise of all those things most forbidden to him. 

Sweetness of cake.   
Ecstasy of drugs.   
Thrill of touch. 

Smack. 

Matt wanted what he couldn't have. 

It had always been like this. 

But Matthew Bellamy always got what he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simple; Matt wants Dom; and Matt always gets what he wants.

I know what I want, Dom. 

I daydream about it. While I’m brushing my teeth, tuning my guitar or just before I go to sleep at night. 

Maybe it’ll take place on the tour bus, no-one else around. Or if you want other people around while this happens, I don’t mind. If it’s your fantasy, I’ll fulfil it, indulge it. I don’t know what your fantasies are made of. I’d dearly love to know. 

We’ll talk, just our usual after-gig bullshit banter. But somehow I’d change the subject, make you understand what I wanted. You’d be surprised at first but I know you’d very quickly get interested. 

We’ll kiss, touch- I’ll finally get my hands on that body I’ve seen on show so many times. I’ll finally be able to explore your skin, with my hands, my tongue, be able to feel, taste, inhale you. 

And you’ll do the same to me. Clothes will be very quickly removed. I imagine how you’d look when looking at my body. I squirm imagining what it would feel like to have you so close, intimate.

Then I want you to grab my wrists, Dom and using rope- it has to be rope- I want you to bind my hands behind my back, hold me firmly in place, hurt me so good, do you know what I mean? 

I know you do. 

Then I imagine you hurting me, I don’t care how. Hit me, burn me with cigarettes, smack me, pinch me, use whips, a hair brush, whatever you want. I’ve conjured up every possible variation. You just have to do it. 

I want to feel the power of your drumming strong arms behind every stroke you deliver. I want to see the bruises you’d leave on my skin, I want to feel my wrists being chafed, being rubbed raw, I want to feel the pressure and sting, to see the raised welts left on my body by you. 

I know what I want, Dom. 

All I need is to realise it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simple- Matt wants Dom; and Matt always gets what he wants. Dom's POV.

I know what you want. 

Actually, to be more accurate, I don't know what you want. But I do know who you want. 

 

Did you really think I haven't noticed how you act around me? And what it means?   
Of course I have half-turned my head and caught you looking at me, looking at my arse or at my exposed stomach if my shirt has ridden up.   
I will admit, I play up to this attention. I imagine your secretive appreciative gaze on me in the morning when I'm planning what to wear. I judge when to make eye-contact with you and when not to. I try to take up as much space as possible, lying in the most obvious poses, making it impossible for you not to be aware of me. I set everythin up, orchestrate it just so you can have every oppurtunity to look at me. 

When you're around me, I note every one of your movements. 

You don't ever blush and maybe that makes you think that you can hide what's going on in your mind when you're looking at me, looking at me sideways, out of the corner of one eye or even taking advantage of a handy mirror to catch a quick glance at me.   
But you betray yourself in different ways, ways you are clearly not aware of. 

Your fingers twitch, you swallow, you touch your clothes, your neck, your collarbone, brush your fingers up and down a forearm, as if you were acting out or trying to tell me what you want me to do to you, indicating where you wish I'd touch you. 

Your little performances do turn me on. I like to imagine that they are a preview of how you would be in bed- skittish, breathless, teasing, your mind and body zinging, ready to respond to the lightest touch. An image I often think of, immerse myself in and use when I'm about to go asleep at night. 

But I am willing to hold back and wait. I'm curious to see what a further delay in our inevitable coupling will do to you. 

Also it will give me more time. 

I'm fairly confident in my judgement of your feelings. But I have only the slightest idea of what it is that you specifically want from me. 

I know everything about you, Matt. I know you want me. All I need to do is figure out how you want me. 

Once I do that, then you can have me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simple- Matt wants Dom; and Matt always gets what he wants. Dom's POV.

So it continues. Your gaze continues to be focused on me and I still notice it and play up to it. I continue my attempt to discover the exact shape and inclination of your desires but get no further. It seems that you are actually capable of hiding some things from me if you so choose. 

I take my frustration out on my instrument. I slam and crash out the rhythms on my drumkit, mingling the desperate passion of my playing with your equally unbrindled guitar.

Maybe you sense my frustration. Or maybe you are tired of flirting, tired of merely looking. Whatever the reason, it causes you to do something on stage we haven't done for a long time. 

Despite having spent the past two hours listening to and watching us, the audience have only been barely satisfied and make no attempt to leave while the distortion still rings out from your guitar. I am about to pick up my microphone and to say goodnight before walking off the stage, when you hurl yourself into my drumkit. 

A cheer goes up from the audience, combining with my own feeling of rising excitement.

You absolute tease. 

I see you are intent on total carnage. You wriggle out of the mess and start savagely dismantling my drum kit, knocking over stands as you go, almost losing your footing, making the cymbals ring out without a beat to follow. I notice you still have your guitar slung around your neck and watch as it crashes into your thigh or hitting your backside as you wreak havoc on the stage. 

I am not aware if Chris is still on stage with us. The crowd though are mostly still here and still watching- I can hear them. 

Suddenly I have an idea of what it is you want and to test this idea, I launch myself at you and what remains of my drum kit. 

You squawk as my full weight hits you and knocks you over, spread out amongst the debris.

It is fucking uncomfortable. We lie there, face to face, you panting hard, I can feel your rib cage and chest rising harshly against me, my body probably pressing down and making it harder again for you to catch your breath.  
I look into your eyes, dull and stormy blue, seeing a look I have never seen before. Utter desire and choking need. I wonder how I appear to you at this moment. 

I see the guitar strap across your chest and realise you must be lying on top of your guitar. I break our gaze to see the end of your guitar sticking out. So, I deduce, you are lying on top of the neck of your guitar. The tuning points and the head of the guitar are sticking into your back. Yet you are saying nothing. I press myself against you, hard, trying to crush you to the ground, upsetting the remains of the drum kit. This elicits a groan from you, which I can scarcely hear but I know you have voiced by the way your body moves beneath me, by how you let your head and lips move. 

My idea appears to have been right. I want to test it further before I take anything else futher. 

I know I am smiling as I grip the stand and press the metal against your forearm, making it bite into your skin. You wriggle underneath me again but make no move to pull away.  
My face is so close to yours now, every breath I exhale is directly onto your face. I need to see you but your eyes are half-closed, you're not fully present on this stage anymore.

But I know now what you want.

I release you. I get off of you and walk off the stage, leaving you to scramble up.

When we're in the dressing room, I watch as you pull off your shirt, exposing the small red indentation marks left there in your back by your guitar and I look at the harsh line on your forearm left by the stand. 

I look at you, no longer a-quiver, no longer trying to subtly look at me. Before you put on another t-shirt you glance at me and smile briefly. I smile back. 

Because we both know what is going to happen after tomorrow night's concert.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final night comes...

Afterwards, neither of them was sure whose suggestion it had been.  
It had arisen due to the constant slagging Dom got over the interesting turn his fashion sense had taken in the past two years. Dom tried to defend his taste in clothes by claiming how good he looked in them and how no one else could pull it off with the same style.  
"I mean," he elsborated. "Imagine Matt trying to wear what I wear. He'd look hopeless."  
Chris and Tom had laughed whilst Matt huffed. "Don't be so bloody cocky, Howard."  
And then one of them had joked that Matt should try on Dom's clothes and see if it was true. It was the last night of the tour and Matt showed up backstage wearing Dom's yellow jeans, one of his t-shirts and had managed to procure a blonde wig which was plopped crookedly on his head. Chris and Tom had cracked up, as did Dom. Matt removed only the wig before going on stage. 

After the gig, Dom knew the moment had come. He no longer cared about pushing Matt to breaking point. Seeing Matt in his own clothes had brought him to the edge and he could no longer wait for what they both wanted.  
He cornered Matt after the gig, backstage and said to him- "I was wrong."  
"About what?" Matt asked.  
"About you looking hopeless in my clothes. As a matter of fact- you look bloody sexy."  
Matt started fidgeting, shoving one hand into his jeans pocket and the other began fluttering nervously around his face.  
"You look really good in my clothes. I like the idea of you wearing something that was against my skin, now against yours."  
Matt's fingers now rubbed frantically up and down his forearm.  
"What are you...? Why..."  
Dom smiled at Matt. "Can I come over to your hotel room later?"  
Matt nodded mutely.  
For a second even Dom faltered, worried that now what he thought they both wanted was happening it wasn't real or right at all and he was mistaking Matt's bewilderment for acceptance.  
"Are you sure?"  
This time Matt nodded and smiled.  
"See you in two hours?"  
"Yes. Yes, Dom." 

A quick, light rapping came at Matt's hotel room door.  
Matt had spent the time alternately pacing his room, trying to watch TV or tugging at his borrowed clothes and looking in the mirror, too many thoughts racing through his mind.  
He stood still for a moment. Then he flicked off the TV and went to answer the door.  
He stood face to face with Dom but not Dom as he knew him.  
He must have nicked some things from backstage, as he was attired in Matt's clothes. A thin white t-shirt, the braces and a pair of his black jeans. He had gone a step further than Matt though. He had procured some black boot polish and slapped it artlessly into his own blonde hair as well as spiking it in every direction. It changed Dom's face, made him looker thinner, made his skin paler and muted the impact of his grey eyes.  
Matt caught his breath. "Dom, are you sure?"  
"About this?"  
"Yeah."  
"Christ, yes. Aren't you?"  
Matt exhaled loudly. "Yes, yes, I am. I just...it was so abrupt, unexpected."  
"Was it really?" Dom grinned. "I think this has been going on for a while. I know I've been wanting this a long time and well, tonight." Dom shrugged. "I realised just how much I want it. You. I don't see the point in wasting any more time."  
"I agree." Matt stepped aside to let Dom enter the room.  
Dom looked briefly around the room. The walls were painted a light yellow and the carpet was grey. The double bed was the centre of the room, set off only by a TV, a large suitcase, an even larger mirror hanging on the wall and a door leading into a small bathroom.  
"I feel a bit outdone by you though." Matt said.  
"Oh, how so?"  
Matt nodded at Dom's hair. "I didn't go as far as you did."  
"You had a wig."  
"It's not the same. And anyway, I'm not wearing the wig now."  
"We could make up for it."  
"How?"  
"Do you have any of Gaia's things lying about?"  
Matt turned his back to Dom and went over to his suitcase. Why would Dom bring up Gaia at this moment? Why remind him?  
"She only left a few days ago, she had to fly home. I got a call from her the next day. She had left a nightdress and some of her make up behind."  
Matt lifted up the two alien objects so Dom could see them. Dom looked at them, calculating, deciding.  
"Perfect. Ok, Matt, sit on the bed will you?"  
Matt sat on the bed, leaving the two objects in front of him, not knowing what Dom was thinking.  
Dom knelt on the mattress in front of Matt. He unzipped the make up bag and tipped the contents onto the bed.  
"Christ, Dom, what are you doing?" Matt asked, slightly unnerved by the situation he found himself in.  
Dom looked up at him sideways as he rifled through Gaia's makeup.  
"I'm going to do you up a bit, since you're so jealous of my hair dye and seeing as we don't have the time to dye your hair blonde-anyway Matt, we both know you don't look good as a blonde."  
Matt was about to say something but forgot what it was when he saw Dom easily twirling a brush in a tub of powder.  
"How can you do that so, well, naturally?"  
"Wouldn't you like to know."  
Dom leaned forward, focusing intently on Matt's face and started applying blusher to Matt's cheekbones. The sensation was unexpectedly pleasant, a soothing circular caress.  
Dom then picked up something else. "Close your eyes."  
He closed his eyes, nervous again, aware of the sound of his own breathing, feeling the brush strokes being applied to his lids, sensing Dom's arms moving in front of his face.  
"Open your eyes."  
Dom reached out a hand to steady Matt's face. "Look upwards and don't close your eyes."  
Dom applied mascara in quick, confident strokes and touched Matt's face again gently to steady himself as he applied black eyeliner.  
"There." Dom leaned back to admire his work. "Look at yourself."  
Matt turned to look at himself in the mirror on the wall. A newly defined face stared back at him. He was worried he was going to look like a drag queen, a bad one at that, but he didn't at all. Dom had painted him well.  
Matt saw in the mirror how Dom was looking at him, drinking him in and he turned to him and kissed him.  
The kiss intensified in an instance. They both fell back on the bed, impatiently sweeping the make up containers off the bed and lay down again, side by side, kissing, kissing, never breaking contact.  
Dom sucked on Matt's lower lip, ran his hands over and over Matt's skinny hips encased in his yellow jeans, inhaling the sweet, powdery smell of the make up. Matt quivered and yielded himself up to Dom's touch, following his every move, gripping onto his hair.  
Dom eventually broke the kiss and Matt felt instantly empty. He touched Dom's forearm, stroking it but he lost his grip as Dom wriggled out of his t-shirt, breathing quickly.  
Matt looked at his hand. The palm was covered in black. He looked up at Dom as he struggled out of his jeans and underwear. The black boot polish was already fading out of his hair where he had gripped it, blonde patches now showing through. Matt was about to say this to him when Dom stood up and kicked his clothes away and Matt could only stare at the body before him.  
Slim but muscular, still tanned. He joined him on the bed and crawled towards Matt.  
"Arms up, Bellamy."  
Matt obeyed and let Dom take his t-shirt off. Matt turned his head and looking at the mirror beside the bed, watched as Dom undressed him. Seeing this golden and black figure unveiling and manipulating his own pale body turned Matt on hugely.  
Dom grinned. Matt knew that could mean only one thing- he had an idea.  
He got off the bed and bent down, giving a wonderful view to Matt before straightening up and returning. He straddled Matt, their bare skin sticking together.  
"What are you doing?" Matt asked. He looked at Dom, noting how nearly all the boot polish had come off his head and mixing with his sweat, was trickling down to Dom's shoulder blades.  
"We needed a few things." was the only explanation he got.  
Matt pulled Dom down towards him, kissing him, letting his lips move along his jaw line before starting to graze his teeth over his neck and collar bone. He wanted as much of Dom as possible, he needed to get as close to him as he could. He lapped at the hollow at Dom's collarbone. Matt was stunned at the extent of his desire but judging by the way Dom's nails were digging into his back, the desire was mutual. Matt wanted to somehow merge himself with Dom if he could. He ran his tongue over Dom's chest, tasting his sweat, breathing in Dom's scent and found himself wondering what Dom's crotch smelt like, wanting to just bury his face into it. Before Matt could manoeuvre himself into such a position, he felt Dom grabbing one of his wrists.  
He was grinning, grinning and trying to catch his breath. Matt took a quick glimpse in the mirror and saw the make up running down his face.  
Dom was wrapping his braces around his wrist and tying it to one of the bed posts. He then got Gaia's night dress and rolled it up and tied Matt's other wrist to the bed post.  
Matt had a huge hard on by this point. How had Dom intuited that this was what he had always wanted to do?  
Dom never took his eyes off Matt. He had now taken hold of his last prop, a small tub of vaseline from Gaia's make up bag. He smeared the contents over his own fingers and Matt's opening, Matt wriggling at the sensation.  
Dom inserted two of his fingers, moving them in and out slowly. Matt jerked at his restraints, wanting to grasp onto Dom's hair, at this moment Matt wanted to grasp onto Dom's skin, almost to tear it open, to see him bleed and to press him to himself and feel him bleed on him.  
Dom began to stab his fingers in and out of Matt. Matt's head was lolling like a rag doll, weak from the combined pleasure of Dom's fingers in him and the way the night dress and the braces were deliciously rubbing against his skin. He looked at the mirror again, examining what kind of picture he and Dom made. This time Dom saw Matt staring in the mirror and decided to consciously perform for Matt.  
He hooked one of Matt's legs over his shoulder, bending it right up and then he entered Matt.  
Matt choked, pulling at his restraints, accomodating Dom. As he was looking in the mirror, he saw Dom was gazing at their reflections too. He felt and also watched as Dom drove his cock into him, watched as Dom's hips twitched and bucked and watched as Dom's face watching him, knowing he was doing this for his benefit.  
Matt's head felt as if it would explode from the myriad sensations- Dom's skin, his sweat on his body, how the restraints were rubbing his wrists raw, the mirror, Dom inside him.  
Matt couldn't hold on any longer and he knew Dom couldn't last either. His orgasm started in his lower belly and swept through his entire body. Matt cried out as his orgasm over took him. He felt Dom slump on top of him. Matt took in short shallow breaths, rendered compltely helpless by the intensity of the sensation.  
After an unknown period had passed, Dom raised his head off Matt's chest and looked at him. Matt groaned. Dom's hair was plasterd to his face, darkened by sweat, his cheeks were pink, his mouth was swollen and half open as he still struggled to recover his breath and his grey eyes were shining.  
"Worth the wait." he managed to choke out.  
Matt began to laugh out loud.  
Dom untied him from his bonds and they lay there for a few moments, side by side, cooling off, recovering.  
"End of the tour." Matt said.  
"Yeah." Dom confirmed. "But..." he looked over at Matt. "We are booked into this hotel for tonight. And we don't have to leave until one o'clock tomorrow."  
Matt grinned at Dom, rolled over and began to kiss him. Tonight, he decided, was going to be a long night indeed.


End file.
